No more to them belong.

For them, alas! no more, wine, mirth, and music flow.

Whose step the stair ascends,

As if still at the top the welcome face appeared.

Lit up

The sparkling scene and cup,

Till it would seem a death to tear the festive bond.

I am lost

In ecstasy of dread;

That Hatchment through my brain a spell hath tost,

'Tis instinct with the dead!

The Spectre whom it glorifies sits there,

Enthroned in dusk and glare

Be wine and wassail mad,

To-morrow, O ye fools! ye rot with me!" it shrieks.

TEUTHA.

I have to apologise for the difference of construction in this stanza; but I have

not time to amend it.

288

THE SPALPEEN.

BY P. MTEAGUE, ESQ.

CHAPTER I.

READER,-I am going to tell you a story about an Irish spalpeen, -which I heard not long since in the county of Clare.

Doubtless you have heard of the county of Clare,-it is one of the wildest in Ireland, and is most remarkable for its one hundred and twenty beautiful little lakes, and its hundred and twenty-six ruined castles and monasteries.

I wish that some of those young ladies and gentlemen who take such delight in rambling up and down the Rhine every summer; or who trip it over the Swiss mountains; or go through France and Italy with green veils and coloured spectacles; -I say I wish some of them would come and look at the sweet county of Clare; as, by so doing, they would not only strengthen their eyesight, but greatly improve their health and complexions. They would also be gainers in pocket, and enjoy the pleasure of seeing their money transferred to honest Paddy (who is almost always in want of cash), instead of to those foreigners who spend all they get in buying rings to wear either in their ears or upon their fingers.

Perhaps, however, you will not even yet know what sort of people the spalpeens may be? For your enlightenment, therefore, I must inform you that they are, generally speaking, tolerably square in their shoulders, strong in their arms, and swift in their feet; that they seem born for hardship, to enable them to endure which nature has kindly endowed them with an unusual stock of patience, and has, moreover, gifted them with light hearts and keen appetites. But, however prodigal she may have been to them in these respects, I am sorry to say, the spalpeens have been little indebted to human ingenuity for any superabundant supplies of hats or coats, shoes or stockings; and, truly speaking, there are other appendages which might be mentioned as being awfully scarce among them. Such, however, are the spalpeens; and as they were fifty years ago, so they continue to the present day; at least so many as are entitled to the appellation; their present numbers being happily much diminished -at least in the county of Clare, from whence a comparatively small number of her sons are now driven to England, or the richly cultivated plains of Leinster, to seek support. But this is digression: I must come to my tale.

There was once, then, and not so very long ago either, an honest, sober, and clever spalpeen, that lived near the small village of Kilfenora, in the northwest part of Clare. His name was Connor O'Mara. He was married to a nice, decent, industrious young woman, and had a couple of fine strapping lads, and two little girls. Work was very scarce at the time I am speaking of; and, hearing that high wages were offering in the province of Leinster, Connor took an affectionate leave of Nelly and the children, and made the best of his way to Kilkenny, and hired himself to a "sthrong farmer" living between that city and Carlow, who bore a great character in those parts for being very good to his men. The farmer, whose

name was Fitzpatrick, occupied a beautiful and fertile tract of land; and, besides attending to his crops, dealt largely in sheep, and pigs, and cattle of all sorts. He had, moreover, a bustling active wife, a fine family of children about him, and a snug comfortable house and

concern.

The farmer took a liking to Connor, so did the mistress and her children, as well they might; for Connor at that time of day was as active and clever a fellow as you would see in a long day's journey, and very industrious and honest. So, after trying his hand at this thing and that for a few weeks, "Connor," says the farmer, "I like your goings on very well; you appear to be a handy knowledgeable man, and I should wish to keep you for awhile. Have you any objection to hire yourself for twelve months? I'll give you twelve guineas for that time, and make you a present of a new suit of clothes into the bargain; and you shall have a warm bed to lie on, and be made comfortable, like one of my own family."

To this handsome proposal Connor willingly agreed; and, during the whole period never for a single day neglected the farmer's business; whether to lead and hearten up the "boys" in digging potatoes, at which the men of Clare are particularly expert-or in reaping, ploughing, or harrowing-or keeping the sheep in a clean healthy state or tending a sick cow, or driving pigs or cattle to fair or market, nothing could exceed Connor's care, success, or diligence. It was as if everything he should come across would thrive after him.

66

Well, you may be sure the time passed pleasantly enough; and, before the twelve months were out, the farmer found himself much better off than he had ever been before; so much so, that, being well assured he should lose his right hand if Connor left him, he determined at almost any cost to keep him. So, when the day of reckoning came, the farmer told him he could not on any account part with him; and, as he had found him a great treasure both at home and abroad, he had determined to double his wages, and give him another suit of clothes, if he would stop with him another year. "You will then," continued Fitzpatrick, "have thirty-six guineas in your pocket, with which you can go back comfortably to Clare, and be a snug man yourself; buy a few pigs and some stock, and provide much better than you could now do for your wife and family."

The proposal was altogether so tempting and flattering to the poor fellow's feelings, that he willingly agreed; believing also, that Nelly would highly commend him could she be present, and that she would be able to struggle on, with the assistance of the eldest son, Jemmy, whom he left a stout boy of fifteen; and, the arrangement once made, matters went on throughout the second year even much better than the first. All, indeed, prospered: Fitzpatrick's farm improved in every way; he was more and more lucky with his stock ; and his fireside was a real comfort to him,-for Connor was a lively fellow, and used to keep them all in good humour. It was remarked, also, that the mistress's temper had greatly improved. Moreover, the children were mighty fond of him, and in the long winter's evenings would crowd about him to listen to his stories; indeed, he had a good stock of them, for the people of Clare are abundantly supplied with amusing narratives, and tell them very cleverly.

At last, however, the day drew near when the second year was to end. The whole household grew very melancholy at the thoughts

of parting with Connor; and indeed Connor himself did not much like the thoughts of quitting, though he felt that it was his bounden duty to return and take care of his own family. Many were the cogitations of Fitzpatrick and his wife; many the comparisons drawn between their present state, and what they were before Connor came to them; and the end of it all was, a determination that Connor should not leave them for at least another year, if they could possibly prevent it. So, when Connor's time was up, the farmer once more brought forward all his former arguments; and, by way of making them as tempting as possible, told him that if he would consent to stay only one year more, he would give him fortyeight guineas; which, in addition to his first and second year's wages, and another suit of clothes, would make him master of eighty guineas to take back with him to his wife and family; and enable him not only to buy stock, but purchase a little land, and become happy and independent.

Now, although Connor had many misgivings, as I have said, he could not withstand this tempting proposal. He consented; though, as he then and afterwards observed, he hoped God would forgive him for thus keeping so long and far away from those who might, for anything he knew to the contrary, be then begging potatoes from the neighbours. However, he did stop.

Time flew quickly on; everything proceeded smoothly and fortunately. Fitzpatrick added to his house, built a new barn, took more land, and increased his stock; he was becoming a rich man; and therefore, seeing and feeling how much he was indebted to Connor, very naturally determined to keep him another year, if possible. He therefore repeated all his former arguments, not forgetting the new suit of clothes, and concluded the whole by proposing to pay him, in addition to the eighty guineas already earned, the sum of one hundred pounds, which, as he rightly observed, would enable him to carry back with him the very large sum of one hundred and eighty-four pounds!

Great indeed was Connor's struggle, and never was a poor spalpeen more sorely tempted. But nature had by this time asserted her rightful claim, and fairly got the better of money; and so, with a heart full of love for his employer, he told Fitzpatrick it was all in vain to say more upon the subject, for that his mind was made up, and go home he would to his wife and children.

Neither could Fitzpatrick blame him; on the contrary, both he and his wife could not help remarking that he was right; and, seeing his affection for his family, declared they would not willingly keep him if they could; and with that, they prepared to part the following day.

On rising in the morning it was pretty evident that few of this warm-hearted household had been much benefited by sleep; most of them declared they had not had a wink; and, indeed, while Connor was tumbling and tossing about in his settle bed, he could not but observe that the farmer's wife had not retired at all, but had been occupied the chief part of the night in baking bread. After a breakfast, which was passed in silence, all rose to separate; upon which the worthy farmer took Connor into his bedroom, and having seated himself in his arm-chair, thus addressed him.

"Connor, you have served me well and faithfully, and as I have

never been served before, for the space of three years. During this time I have not missed a single halfpenny in our reckonings, nor have I once seen the sign of liquor upon you. The little trifles you have had of me upon account of your coming wages, for the price of the tobacco, or such like matters, I will not deduct, but will reckon all with you. I here, therefore, acknowledge your claim upon me for eighty guineas; and, indeed, by the same token, well do I know that many was the sixpence you spent for the children; who, poor things! will greatly miss so kind a friend as you have been to them. Troth, Connor!" exclaimed the farmer with emotion, "I hear them sobbing now; they are crying their hearts out for you," and while the honest man uttered these words he turned his head aside, and wiped a tear from his own eye with the back of his hand; but recovering himself immediately, and forcing a smile upon his face, he continued, "Connor, there is no use speaking too much upon this subject. You should know our hearts by this time, and you do know them well; and I need not tell you that hearts and eyes have their own ways of talking, and, by the same token, any one may perceive that yours are as busy as the rest, though not a word has passed over your lips. We have all of us to thank you for services and friendship; but none so much as myself.”

Here the tears, which had been gathering in Connor's eyes, fell and fairly ran down his cheeks, - just as those little watercourses which children are so fond of stopping up, break their bounds when their mimic dams have been overpowered.

"Now then," said Fitzpatrick, "my dear boy, enough of this; and we will go into the business at once. You have confidence in me, Connor?

"I have, sir,—every confidence."

"

"Will you then be advised by me before you go?" "'Faith, I will; I'll not go agen you in anything!" "Well, then; if I engage to put the full value of all the money I owe you into your pocket by THREE PIECES OF ADVICE,-and when you get home you will be ready to acknowledge that so sure and certain was the counsel you have not been a loser, but a very great gainer by it, will you consent to take THEM instead of the money?'

This was a puzzling question, and seemed to alter the appearance of matters very seriously. Connor had often heard people praised for the great value of the advice they gave; he had been told of very large lumping sums put into lawyers' hands for only one piece of advice; and he had heard also that neither kings nor queens, nor lords lieutenant, could get on with their business a single day without people at their elbows to give them advice, and that they paid them well for their trouble; and gave them gold chains to wear round their necks, and new garters for their stockings, and ribbons and stars on their coats, and I don't know what besides. He had often thought Fitzpatrick equal to one of these gentlemen. He had, moreover, a boundless confidence in the farmer's honesty, and an equal reverence for his wisdom: still he was confounded; and, after pausing a while, exclaimed,

"Why, master, I'm fairly bothered," and then attempting to burst into an awkward sort of laugh, added, “Oh, I see now how it all is! It's joking with me you are! but you 're welcome to that